Coldness of the Leaves
by corvusdraconis
Summary: [HG/SS] AU: A chain of events went wrong, starting with the moment Severus Snape was left to die alone in the Shrieking Shack. Only now, a decade after the end of the Wizarding War, the price of betrayal becomes far more evident.
1. Coldness in the Leaves

**A/N: [HG/SS] AU:** A chain of events went wrong, starting with the moment Severus Snape was left to die alone in the Shrieking Shack. Only now, a decade after the end of the Wizarding War, the price of betrayal becomes far more evident.

 **November Contest:** Fall "Fic"tacular for reddit

 **Prompts:** Must be a Harry Potter Fic

 **Must include:** Fall (the season!)

 **Beta Love:** fluffpanda, the crazily overworked,

Story Please, the elusive, &

Lux, the poker of things

 **The Coldness in the Leaves**

Harry, Ron, and Neville stared down the Fifth Floor hallway, expressions shifting between concern, frustration, and confusion. Autumn leaves were blowing through the empty hallways of Hogwarts, propelled by drafts from windows further down the corridor. Harry was writing something down on a notepad as Ron waved his wand over the nearby wall. Neville simply stood there, looking exceedingly guilty.

"You put him in the Come and Go Room?" Harry asked Neville.

"It was the only place—" Neville began with a nervous twitch. "It was the only place I could think of that could hold him. He almost tore the doors off the classroom. The Room created restraints better than the ones we had at the Auror's Office—not that you can tell now. He's grown too powerful."

Harry waved his hand. "I understand. Ron, can you get the door to manifest?"

"No, mate," Ron said with a shake of his head. "You know the room, though. It won't open unless…"

"It thinks it should, I know," Harry groaned. "Neville, what happened? What really happened?"

Neville wrung his hands, pulling his teaching robes around himself. "It's all my fault. I interrupted Snape's class in the middle of a lesson. Mason and Collins were dueling. It was an intensive top level lesson, and I came in right as the spells were being thrown."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that it wasn't just some minor spellcasting error?"

There was a crashing, tearing, and snarling sound coming from the other side of the wall.

Neville's eyes widened. " Snape stepped in front of me and took both spells right in the chest. I have no idea what they were throwing at each other, but if what happened to him is any indication, it wasn't Jelly-leg jinxes."

Ron seemed to read between the lines. "What happened, mate? You've been looking like you poisoned someone's pet Puffskein."

"Snape's arm started to bleed this black stuff," Neville said."You know, where the Dark Mark used to be. It crawled all over him and he just kept screaming and screaming…. I hustled all the students out as he started to transform, and then I Stunned him, tied him in ropes, and brought him here."

"You think it was the Dark Mark then?" Harry asked. "Something the Dark Lord cast as a dormant spell on all his Death Eaters?"

"Maybe it wasn't something Voldemort did, Mate," Ron said, seemingly thoughtful. "Maybe it was a combination of accidental magic mixed with the remnant Dark magic the Mark left behind when Voldemort died."

Harry and Neville stared at Ron.

"What's with the look of surprise?" Ron groused. "I paid attention at our last Auror seminar."

Harry shook his head. "Why did you take a month to notify us, Neville?"

Neville looked resigned. "The other professors have been trying to help him, but only one has been able to help."

"Neville—" Harry cautioned. "I know that tone. Who are you protecting?"

"You and Ron, Harry," an eerily calm voice replied, "from me."

Silent as a spectre, a woman drifted down the hallway towards them. Dark black robes trimmed in fur and blood red satin framed a smaller statured witch with her hair pulled back into a french braid. She had a high collar, stiff against her neck. Her brown eyes, which once held warmth and sensitivity, had a cold blackness to them—Occlumency and tight control robbing both her eyes and face of emotion.

Neville paled, showing the same reaction he used to show for Snape back in the day, no amount of heroism seemed to be able to steal that response from his psyche. Bravery was, apparently, situational, and as Harry and Ron gazed upon their old friend, it became ultimately clear just how changed Hermione had become since last they had seen her.

Hermione's lips pursed together in a tight line. "It has been many years," Hermione said with an uncomfortably detached voice.

"Harry, Ron," Neville said softly. "Her—Professor Krum agreed to serve in Professor Snape's… absence. She has also been the only one who has been able to get through to him when his instincts have turned violent."

"Violent?" Ron interjected. "You neglected—"

Vicious snarling came from on the other side of the nearby wall. The sounds of slamming as well as the force of impact caused Ron and Neville to jump.

"If I remember correctly, _you_ neglected to tell _my husband_ that he was going into a basilisk nest to rescue that child as well, Ronald. You let him go in there thinking it was just a less intelligent Dark Wizard, and you needed his help flushing him out." Hermione said coldly. "Funny, how a lack of communication breaks down _so_ _many_ _things_."

Ron paled. "'Mione—"

Hermione's flat, ancient eyes bored into his frightened blue eyes. " _You_ waited until I was in Australia visiting my parents, and _you_ recruited him for a mission tracking down some fleeing vermin. You couldn't be bothered to wait for the intelligence reports to come back. You _had_ to be the hero again."

Harry looked like he was going to protest.

Hermione held up her hand. "Spare me your condolences," she said. "I read all of the reports. I read them hundreds of times. I read every morning as I sat in my house alone without my husband. In the years after his death, not once did either of my _best friends_ or any of my friends come and offer me comfort."

Harry, Ron, and Neville looked down at their feet.

"There were still those who cared, though. I had half of Viktor's graduating class from Durmstrang keeping me company every night, giving me lessons in all sorts of magic and four Slavic languages to keep my mind off things. When they weren't there, I had most of the Bulgarian Quidditch Team in my home holding me as I cried. So, you'll have to forgive me for not having faith in… my old _friends_ or Aurors for that matter..."

As Hermione approached the smooth stone wall, a door formed, and she walked through it.

"Hermione, _no_!"

Hermione continued to walk as a monstrous black, winged shape descended from the ceiling and landed on Hermione with a roar. Hermione made no move to protect herself.

The beast, and he could be described as nothing less than a beast, snarled. Venom dripping from sharp, razor teeth as leathery, dragon-like wings beat the air. Pitch black skin glistened with slime as his claws scraped against the stone floor. His nostrils flared; giant puffs of air moved Hermione's hair as he sniffed her neck. Claws as long as knives clenched her body, tips just barely digging into the fabric of her black robes.

"Madam Krum," Snape's velvety and venomous voice slipped from the horrible monster's lips in a manner that seemed to indicate a difficulty in speaking with human words. "You... _returned_."

Hermione looked at him calmly. "I promised that I would, Professor Snape," she replied.

"I," the bestial Snape replied, "did not think you would return after… last time."

Hermione shook her head. "I promised I would," she replied. "I keep them as best I can."

Shiny black eyes bore into her face as his nose twitched. "I believe you."

"Oi! Snape!" Ron, Harry, and Neville managed to get through the door before it closed behind them.

Snape snarled,. He stood in front of Hermione with his wings out, teeth bared, and venom dripping from his jaws. One wing curled around Hermione's form, pulling her behind him. Power radiated off his body, and it was growing stronger, wicking off his body like dark mist.

Hermione's hand touched Snape's bestial wing. "Professor," she said calmly. "It's okay. They were just worried about me, _isn't that right_?"

Harry, Ron, and Neville's faces flashed with a number of emotions, but they all merely nodded numbly in rely.

Snape's black eyes bored into the two Aurors and Neville, teeth still bared, but his lips relaxed as he turned back to Hermione. The snarl softened and he sighed. "Severus," he said. "Call me by my name, Madam Professor Krum."

Hermione's expression was sad. "Hardly seems fair that I get to call you by your name while you still refer to me as 'Madam Professor Krum'."

Snape's body shuddered and seemed to fold in on itself. With a deep breath, Severus Snape, looking perfectly human, stood in the beast's place— tall, pale, and brooding.

"What happened?" Harry asked, holding Ron back with his arm.

Snape, his lip curled in disdain, snorted. "Incidental magic combined with the taint left by the Dark Lord and… transformed me into exactly what all those young minds thought I was."

"What?" Ron said softly. "Wait, does that mean—?"

Neville closed his eyes. "It means that now...he's everything we thought as kids… all the stories. He became the embodiment of what we thought he was—what most children tend to believe of their Boggarts."

Harry looked horrified. "No disrespect meant, Sir, but we used to think—"

Snape's face twisted into disgust. "I am well aware, now more than ever, of what children believe me to be, Mr Potter. Apparently, I am many horrible things that cohabitate in one body." Power rolled off Snape, and in moments, claws had formed on the end of his fingers. His teeth grew a little sharper.

Hermione touched his arm gently, and the irritation seemed to drain out of him.

"I am sorry," Snape apologised as his sanity seemed to return and his feral features faded with Hermione's touch. "Emotions make it… harder to control."

Harry stepped up. "Sir, is there anything we can do to help you? Hermione, are you doing anything we can… assist with? I have some contacts within the Aurors that might be able to—"

"Madam Kr—Hermione," Snape corrected himself, "seems to be able to bring me back to myself. We are unsure why. There is a… connection."

"If I stay with him for the night, he will be able to stay human," Hermione explained. "He can remain that way for most of the daylight hours in meditation, but any stress while he is alone will bring out the change."

"Well, that means teaching is out," Neville sighed.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Even sitting in a faculty meeting or running into Hagrid has not ended well if Hermione is not there. So, when she is not able to be my 'escort,' I am forced to detain myself here. It has become harder, as times go on, to focus when she is not present."

"Any idea why?" Ronald asked.

"All of the faculty have tried to keep vigil with him, Ron," Neville said. "There was nothing we could do. Our presence made it worse. The only other who he tolerates in that state is the Headmistress and that only when she is in her Animagus form."

"Professor Snape," Harry interjected. "Will you allow us to run a few scans?"

"By all means, Mr Potter," Snape growled. "Poke away."

Hours later, Harry and Ron looked resigned. Neville simply looked weary, and Hermione's eyes were drifting closed as exhaustion from her day caught up with her.

A pile of graded papers lay in a neat pile by the door, and Hermione's eyes fluttered closed, her body going limp.

"'Mione," Ron said, his arm extending to touch her.

Snape's eyes were swallowed with black. "Do not touch her," he growled. His black, but human eyes returned slowly. "When she sleeps, it is… calming."

Ron frowned, but some deeper realisation seemed to flicker there. "We failed her. When she needed us, we were never there. Just like Snape. We left you to die in that Shack. Only Hermione thought to Apparate you to St. Mungo's. I let my family justify my anger when Viktor did all the things I couldn't, and then, when he died, I kept waiting for her to come back to me, never thinking I should have gone to her."

"Ron, what are you saying?" Harry said.

"That's the connection, mate," Ron said. "They were both betrayed… by us."

"Ron, he died in front of us. His heart stopped," Harry insisted.

Neville spoke up. "That didn't stop Hermione from taking him to Mungo's did it?" he asked, his face sad.

Snape shook his head. "I do not hold such old actions, especially those committed during war, against any of you. We all had our roles to play."

"It's karma, mate," Ron insisted, wringing his hands like his mother was prone to do.

Severus growled.

Ron shot up his hands. "Our karma, Professor."

Snape narrowed his eyes, an odd sense of acceptance in his regard.

Again, Harry and Neville looked at Ron as though he had grown a second head.

"Sir," Harry said after a while. "Do you mind if we take our results to the Aurors? I would like to help you."

Severus pulled his robes around himself, then seeing how Hermione was nestled in against him, pulled on side of his robe to cover her like a blanket.

"Do you as you wish, Mr Potter," Severus replied. "You have already cleared my name. I do not wish to be further indebted to you."

Harry straightened. "It's our job sir—to help people."

Snape's teeth were strangely sharp. "Some would say I am not even that anymore." There was a surge of power that rolled off him, but he immediately pressed his hand to Hermione's head. Immediately, the flare of almost alien power faded. Snape remained human. "Your conversations, helpful as you may intend, are wearing down my control, Mr. Potter, Weasley, Longbottom. If you wish to speak to me again, I would ask you do so tomorrow after I have rested."

"Of course, I apologise for keeping you," Harry said.

Snape shook his head. "This is not your fault, Mr Potter. Our history, while linked, does not make you my keeper forever."

Harry looked sad. "You watched over me for almost two decades, Professor. "The least I can do is try and help you now."

Snape was silent but he nodded, waving his hand with almost Malfoy dismissiveness.

Harry herded Ron and Neville away, and they stepped through the door with defeat in their footfalls.

"The Dark is taking him over, Harry," Ron whispered to Harry as the door closed behind them. "You know we're going to have to come back in the morning with a team and—"

"Let them sleep, Ron," Harry said, wincing, his voice wavering. "We've already failed her once. We've already failed him. Give them tonight while he is in control. We can talk to her in the afternoon, when they are normally apart."

Neville's eyes went wide. "You mean to bring in the Hit Wizards."

Harry's face was haunted. "The Darkness is a part of him now, Neville. It's only a matter of time when Hermione won't be able to bring him back himself. She's good, but the curse will consume him and turn him into everything we imagined him to be."

Inside the closed Room of Requirement, Severus Snape's eyes had bled into pure black. Long stiletto fangs exposed as a muzzle formed out of his face as thick venomous drool dripped from his mouth. His ears were pitched forward as he listened to the trio leave.

He had heard… everything.

Severus looked down at Hermione Krum, once member of the Golden Trio, then ostracised outlier whose social circles had fallen into something resembling his. As his growing senses explored her magic, her mind, and the calming effect she had upon him, he realised they shared the same gaping emptiness—a void that could never be filled because what had once filled it was dead. Somehow, the universe had dealt them both the same wildcard and given each other the key to filling that void once more with a very steep price tag. He was turning into a nightmare creature, and she was turning away from much of the light and hope in her life now that her husband was dead.

His claws hands brushed her hair from her face. Was there hope for either of them? Would he surrender to the Aurors and meet his death by Hit Wizards, or would he instead surrender to the transformation and become the beast? What would it mean for her—this special witch, that even though she'd been shunned by the world, she still had enough compassion to stay with him to keep his mind human?

"Hermione," he crooned, his voice difficult as his vocal chords were no longer entirely human.

Hermione stirred in her sleep, and in an act that caused Snape to shudder, she pulled into him, snuggling into his lap as she slept. Her smaller hand curled around the curve of his elongated talons, barely managing to wrap around the sharp, obsidian claw's most deadly point.

She was tired… weary. He could feel it.

Even if he managed to leave his prison in the Come and Go Room… then what? Flee into the wilderness and descend in the madness of becoming the beast of nightmares? And where would that leave her? Alone? Would she remain at Hogwarts and take up the position he left behind? Would she return alone to Bulgaria to the empty home she once shared with the love of her life? How is it he knew her so well in such a short time? Was this strange, mutated magic that was transforming him giving him insight into this one lonely witch? Did he have any right at all to ask of her more than what she had already done?

The change came with a rush of heat, and he growled possessively as his instincts overruled reason. Hermione.

He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against him, tucking her both against his chest and under his wings. He closed his eyes as he placed his muzzle into her hair, nose working as he savoured her scent.

A rumbling and scraping noise caused him to look up. The Come and Go room had given him a stairway that went upward. He stared at it, giving a soft growl. He stood, carrying Hermione in his arms like a classic movie monster carrying the female victim—up into the unknown that only Hogwarts knew he needed.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Snape crooned softly, laying Hermione back against the ramparts. The full moon cast its bright light across the autumn's half skeletal trees as leaves rustled across the grounds with a rattle. Hogwarts had given him a way out. It had given him an escape to freedom, but to take it he would leave behind his connection to his humanity. There was a good chance the person he was and the person he had become would be forever lost.

Possessive instincts warred with protective ones, and the protective ones were torn between two different methodologies: leave her to protect her from himself or take her with him to protect her from the world that had forsaken her… just as the world had forsaken him.

He hissed in pain as a burning in his arm caught him off guard. Dark black rivulets of Dark corruption slithered down his arm from pores in his skin, and suddenly he knew. He knew if it reached Hermione's skin and found a cut or a wound, it would turn her into something like him… if she survived the experience. He stroked her cheek with his other hand, his fangs exposed in a grimace of pain and longing. He pressed his muzzle to her cheek, jaws parted as his darkened tongue flicked out to very tenderly lick her skin, and he launched into the air with a howl of anguish, leaving her in the depths of her exhausted sleep. She would be alone, but she would still be pure and untouched by the Darkness in his blood. She would be human.

He could only pray that when the beast took over his mind, he would not remember the soft touch of her skin on his.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione woke days later at St. Mungo's to headlines proclaiming her a miraculous survivor. They never found Severus Snape. All divination and scrying for him met with failure. Officially, he had been killed by a cursed beast— a remnant of the old war that Voldemort had kept hidden from all. His name was clear in his second death. Harry Potter had seen to it. He said only that he had failed the man that had protected him as a child a second time.

Hermione took up Snape's position at Hogwarts, accepting the offer for permanent tenure. She and Neville made up, eventually, but Neville often noted that he never found the same warmth in Hermione's eyes that he remembered from their childhood. Hermione and the other two thirds of Golden Trio never found true peace. While she forgave them in words, she made no effort to rejoin their gatherings at the Burrow. She never remarried.

Many, many years later, long after her parents had died and many classes of Hogwarts' students having passed through the gates and graduated, Hermione's portrait was mounted beside Headmaster Snape's and Minerva McGonagall's. It was said that the other portraits gave the trio a wide berth, and that often Hermione's portrait would mutter things in Bulgarian as the latest Headmaster went by. Students had called her brilliant, but scary. She had tolerated no nonsense, much like Minerva, and she had tolerated even less dunderheadedness, much like Snape. She had taught until her hair was streaked with silver, yet her eyes remained fathomlessly black with Occlumency her entire career, never once revealing the warm brown of her youth.

And one night, after all the students had gone to bed, the patrols were done, and the latest generation of Hogwarts professors were tucked comfortably into their various roles, Headmistress Hermione Krum had vanished.

It was said that, for decades, a forest in Bulgaria's wilds known only as the Forest of the Demon was guarded by a fiercely territorial demon that protected it from all human intruders. There, the trees grew tall without being molested for their wood, and the animals only worried about the sort of things animals normally worry about. Hunters found themselves with no game to hunt and no way home. Magical species were said to flourish there like no other place on Earth. Those that attempted to intrude there came out babbling about demons if they came out at all, and soon, Muggles and Wizarding folk left it untouched. For years, the demon's mournful cries echoed across the canopy every night. Some said that it was calling to a mate that never joined him.

One night, a lone woman walked into the Forest of the Demon, her aging silver-lined hair shining in the full moon's light. The locals tried to warn her that the forest was haunted, but the woman only smiled and stated, "I'm counting on it."

She never returned, but from that night on, two haunting cries chimed from over the forest's canopy. Two sets of vast wings soared across the moonlit skies and fire-coloured trees, wing-tip to wing-tip. From then on, the Forest of the Demon was always draped in the full and vibrant colours of autumn. The leaves rustled together as they fell and blew in the wind, the fruits and nuts of the season were always plentiful, and voices seemed to whisper in the wind to those who stood still enough to listen.

The locals told stories to their children to never take the forest for granted or the demons would get them. No one, in the hundreds of years to follow, ever dared to test that hypothesis.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

" _To remain indifferent to the challenges we face is indefensible. If the goal is noble, whether or not it is realized within our lifetime is largely irrelevant. That we must do therefore is to strive and persevere and never give up."_

- _Dalai Lama XIV_

 **A/N:** I'd like to think that once Hermione had lived her full and human life that she left all her things in order and went to find the one who had given up his humanity for her.


	2. Chapter 2: Epilogue

**A/N:** Some of you seemed to want a little more closure in the ending, even though I thought it was a clearly happier ending than say, Severus and Hermione never reuniting. Soooo…. I give you a peek into the end… or perhaps I should say, the beginning…

 **Beta:** Story Please

 **Coldness in the Leaves : Chapter 2: Epilogue**

" _Cherish those who seek the truth, but beware of those who find it." —Grimm_

Hermione was never so glad of Viktor's corrupting influence of wearing fur lined robes as she was walking in a particularly hostile part of Bulgaria. The weather was always so cold, that the locals said that even in the summer the snow would fall just to spite anyone daft enough to think they were free of it.

It had been over five decades since her husband had died, and Hermione was only now finally coming to terms with it. She had lived a good life in his honour; taught many new generations of wizards and witches in the hopes of preventing what had happened to him from ever happening again. She had placed a single rose on her husband's grave every year on their wedding anniversary instead of the anniversary of his death. She had gotten smashed with his Bulgarian friends in a manner that was more Viktor's than her own, but it had always been a celebration of what Viktor had meant to them. Even decades after his death, they still looked upon him fondly. They had all supported her as well, knowing that part of her had wanted to crawl into an early grave so that she too could follow him..

 _Keep your friends close, Mr. Mulder. Keep your enemies closer._

Hermione gave a humourless smile. Muggle television often got a lot of things right without realising it. Perhaps, some of the writers were far more in tune with the world than they let on. Some of them did, she suspected. Others, much like typical human beings, had issues telling fantasy from reality.

She had never managed to reconcile with the other two thirds of the Golden Trio. Ginevra, despite being her best female friend from school, did what most people who have to live with their spouse did, and kept out of it. Hermione didn't blame her, not really. There had been a time when all she focused on was coming home to see Viktor's smug smile when he returned with yet another Quidditch trophy, present, reward, or whatnot. He had done very well for himself as a Dark Magic tracker as well. Unfortunately, that had been his demise. He could never turn away from helping those in need, so when Ron and Harry had asked for his help, he had gone to help at once.

They had thought it would be just a standard flush and catch operation. They had thought him merely a less-than-average Dark Wizard, so they didn't bother waiting on the intel coming back from their agents.

They were wrong.

The man had been raising basilisks. He had more than twenty toads sitting on eggs in his underground hide-away. Many more of the hatchlings all the way to full-grown basilisks were lurking around in the dark. They hadn't counted on the fact that Basilisks did not register on traces for Dark magic. Despite their danger, they were not truly a Dark creature. They were simply a very high-level predator that ate anything smaller than they were. Viktor had died instantly under the glowing gaze of multiple basilisks. They hadn't even been able to fetch his body because one of the Aurors on the team panicked and set the place on fire with Fiendfyre. All that had been left of Viktor Krum had been the Fiendfyre-proof family heirloom he had pinned on his collar and his enchanted wedding ring.

The Ministry had returned them to her when she had come home to an empty house. The stress of the following drama had caused her to miscarry just as she'd reached the second trimester. All she had left of her husband was memories. Eventually, after Severus Snape's "disappearance" for the second time, she had replaced her desire for children of her own by teaching the children of the Wizarding world. She had developed a tight relationship with Minerva McGonagall, and when the time came to pass the mantle of Headmistress on, no one had questioned Minerva's choice..

Rita Skeeter had attempted to stir up trouble for Hermione when Snape had disappeared that fateful night so long ago. _Attempted_ was the key word there. Hermione, having had lost any semblance of tolerance for Skeeter's shenanigans, marched over to the Animagus Registry and reported Rita with a laundry list of her crimes done while disguised as a beetle. Hermione, having trusted Rita about as far as she could have thrown her, had placed a tracer of her own making upon her. Every time Rita changed her form, a log book she had stashed away in her vault in Gringott's recorded where she had been. It had taken the Wizengamot to all of twenty minutes to convict her of a laundry list of crimes. Hermione, in light of the "good" she had done in bringing Rita's crimes to light, was pardoned, and no reporter afterwards dared lift a quill against her.

Now, her life lived in honour of her beloved Viktor, she was ready to move on, and she was ready to make good on the promise she had made to one Severus Snape back in the Room of Requirement all of those years ago.

* * *

" _I can feel myself slipping away when you are gone, Madam Krum," Severus confessed. "I do not know how long we can keep this up."_

" _As long as I know where you are, Professor," Hermione replied, "and as long as I am able to, I will stay at your side."_

 _Severus stared at her, his human eyes staring at her through a bestial face. "Why do you help me, Madam Professor Krum? You owe me no kindness. I expect no kindness."_

 _Hermione laid her hand on his, her touch giving him the ability to reconnect to his more human mind. "Because I know what it is like to be forgotten once your usefulness is no longer needed."_

 _He stared at her and then closed his eyes._

* * *

They had said nothing more on the matter. He did not protest her being there, and she came to him every night to keep him in touch with his humanity. There had been a warmth there, despite his condition, even a tenderness. It had lasted until he had left her. It was only later she realised that Harry and Ron would have brought in the Hit Wizards to "deal with Snape's condition" the very next day instead of helping her work on why her presence focused him. They had signed off on his being incurable without much thought. Perhaps, they had been right, but Hermione could never forgive them. It was just one more sin they could never atone for.

* * *

Hermione moved deeper into the woods the locals called the "Forest of the Demon." It had been tales of this particular patch of forest that had caught her attention over the years. She hadn't been sure until there had been an incident where some Muggle poachers had walked into the place hoping to do some hunting and came out babbling about demons. The demon part wasn't what got her attention. It had been the description of the demon that had told her all she needed to know.

All attempts to find Severus Snape after his "escape" had been met with failure. He had hidden himself away very effectively, at least until he tipped his hat by driving the poachers out of the forest. For someone who had never stopped looking, it was all Hermione had needed.

The walk into the forest was exhausting. The terrain, even in the depths of the forest where the underground was few and far between, was a natural barrier. It was the perfect place. Sounds of a healthy forest full of creatures were loud and varied throughout her trek. She knew, however, that she'd been found when the noises stopped.

A low growl rumbled from the air above her and a dark shape descended upon her. Hot breath seemed to scald the skin off of her face from multiple angles. Claws dug into her robes, exposing her skin and pressed into it without rending her flesh. Huge wings unfurled as glistening teeth were bared in her face, their number taking up her field of vision. Her hair twisted wildly behind her as the beast scented her face.

A deep, reverberating growl echoed in her ears, but she did not struggle.

"Hhhhh—" the monster said, the sound like the rasp of sandpaper over wood. "Hhhher...mio...ne?" His cool nose pressed into the skin of her neck. A long, black, sinuous tongue slipped out to lick at her neck desperately. "You… _came_."

"I promised I would, Severus," she replied sadly. "I never stopped hoping you would reappear. I half expected to see you, standing on the ramparts, staring out over Hogwarts so many times."

The beast breathed heavily, his wings wrapped around her, pulling her to him. "Hermione," he managed to say clearly, his fangs shrinking back into his muzzle. "Couldn't...couldn't turn back. Stuck. Like this. A _monster_." He nuzzled her neck, running his tongue over her skin as though to reassure himself that she was there.

Hermione touched his muzzle, her eyes half closed as the exhaustion of her trek combined with the warmth of his body filled her with contentment. He cradled her against him like a lover, his wings protectively entwined around her body. It made her feel safe. No one other than Viktor had been able to give her that sense of peace. Until that moment, she hadn't realised how much she missed that comfort.

His tongue laved her neck gently, tenderly grooming her. His instincts were mixed despite his being able to reason like a human in her presence. He and the beast were together in their need to reassure himself that she was real.

"M—missed you," he rasped. "Never forgot. Touch. Your touch. Your scent." His nostrils flared. Venomous drool dripped from his exposed teeth. Muscles moved under his slick, black, slime-covered skin.

Hermione stared into his black eyes. No whites remained to indicate some semblance of humanity, yet it was obvious that some part of Severus Snape remained inside the beastly body.

"I've missed you, too," she confessed.

Somehow, in the short time they had spent together, they had formed a genuine emotional connection, and it had remained, even though many decades had passed.

She closed her eyes as his talon-like hand touched her face, his long claws curving around her head as one might cradle a valuable vase. Her hands traveled down his muzzle, exploring the changes that had claimed him. He remained perfectly still, a soft, almost imperceptible growl of pleasure emanating from his throat. Her fingers traveled down his arms and explored his taloned hands, examining the rough pads on the bottom of his fingers and the deadly talons themselves. "You're a chimera," she said softly. "A combination of things that should not exist together, yet…"

"I do… exist," he replied. "Many times I have tried not to, but this body does not permit it." His tone was matter of fact. There was no sadness, only resignation.

Hermione clasped his thumb with her hand, her small hand seemingly tiny in comparison to his one digit. "I should have found you sooner. I am so—"

" _No_!" he said adamantly. "You deserved a long human life. You deserved to leave your mark on the human world." His body shuddered and seemed to fold in on himself. He looked up at her, the black of his eyes concentrated in the pupil and iris alone, his skin as pale and hairless as it had been before the change.. The shape of the beast was gone.

"I made my choice, Hermione," his low, human voice seemed musical in comparison to that of the beast. "As much as both beast and man wanted nothing more than to take you with me—protect you from those who had forsaken you, it still would have been wrong."

"You haven't aged a day," Hermione said with wonder, her hand touching his face. Her eyes shimmered with emotion.

Severus' eyes met hers. There was a sadness there. "Nightmares do not age. They merely grow more frightening the more the stories are told.."

"You're not a nightmare, Severus," Hermione replied. "You are not some creature that lurks in closets and under the bed or a boogeyman that steals children from their beds at night. You are here, now, talking to me."

Severus gave a grim smile, his teeth growing sharper than what is usual for a human being. "To some, I am far worse."

Hermione gave him a humourless smile. "You protect this forest from Muggle and Wizarding folks alike. I've heard the stories of the great demon who drives intruders and poachers from the land."

"The drive is strong," he admitted, "to build a home… protect it. The beast waits for a female, but he's too thick to realise he's the only one of his kind. I know better than to thinkthere is some compatible female Death Eater who managed to get cursed with the exact conditions of accidental magic as I was." He laughed dryly. "Not that I would want anyone like Bellatrix Lestrange. Even if the alternative is… loneliness."

Hermione's pressed her hand against his wrist, her thumb rubbing against his skin until he purred softly. "You will never have to be alone again, Severus."

His head shot up, conflicted emotion causing his face to twist into a half-muzzle. "But...if you stay with me, the taint—"

Hermione touched his half-formed muzzle tenderly. "I lived my long, lonely life, Severus. I taught and guided countless children, and I left my mark on the future, but there wasn't one day I felt as I feel when I'm with you. I've had over five decades to come to terms with Viktor's death and losing you that dreadful night. I have made my decision.."

"It would change you; _corrupt_ you!" he protested, his fingers caressing her cheek softly as the tips grew dark and his nails grew pointed.

"No more than it has changed you, Severus. You are not some mindless beast. Your form before me is proof enough of that." she reasoned.

"Perhaps, I am a mindful beast, Hermione," Severus replied, raising an eyebrow, "but a beast none the less."

"And yet, here we are having this conversation," Hermione countered, "proving you are more than that."

Severus looked haunted. "This form… it will fade again."

"And I will be here to bring you back," Hermione said firmly.

"You sound so sure," he said, his eyes doubtful.

"Whatever happens, Severus," she replied gently. "I trust you."

" _Can_ you ever truly trust a beast, though?" Severus whispered, his hands twisting into talons as the pads of his monstrous digits gently pressed into her cheek.

Hermione pressed her palm to his transforming talons. "He hasn't harmed me yet, and neither will you." Hermione's teeth chattered slightly as the cold in the forest prompted her to to nudgecloser to Severus' warmth.

He enfolded her with his arms. "Come," he invited. "My… home is not far from here. It will be warmer. Safe."

Hermione nodded. She cast a warming charm over her robes, but the cold was harsh, and it merely muted the freezing wind.

He led her carefully, seemingly randomly into the wilderness towards his home.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Years passed, and Hermione and Severus became closer. Severus' lair in the woods expanded to be more comfortable for Hermione, and while he did eventually revert to a beastly state, as long as she remained with him in his adopted territory, he retained his mind.

He had crafted a living lair, lining the living areas with plants and mosses to allow for her comfort, and Hermione did not complain. She mused that if Pomona Sprout could spend one hour studying the intricate plants and enchantments he had woven together simply for Hermione's comfort, she would have squealed in delight and wanted to stay forever.

Severus gathered a variety of glowing night plants to aid Hermione's vision, collected the softest mosses and grasses to line the bed they shared, and guided multiple natural springs to provide fresh cold water for drinking and heated springs water for bathing without the need for magic.

Hermione lined the lair with an uncountable number of books, pulling more and and more from her beaded bag as room allowed. They researched together, attempting to find the magical key in her presence that allowed Severus to remember himself, but as the years passed, it became clear that whatever it was, it could not be replicated in a potion or a spell. Hermione _was_ the key, and whatever balance existed in her inherent magic was hers alone. She chose to give herself to Severus, and he cherished every moment she gave him.

Sometimes, they would sit together; one human witch and one almost-human wizard. Sometimes it would be one human witch and one very inhuman beast, but despite how it may have appeared to the passing bird or curious squirrel, both the man and the beast took care of her as best they could.

Hermione asked for little, enjoying both silent companionship and more theoretical conversation. Work on curing him fell to the wayside as contentment replaced the frantic search for viable treatment. As happy and stable as their relationship became, Severus began to notice a slowing in her movements, a subtle change in her reaction time, and an even more subtle silvering of her hair. She rose a little slower in the mornings, preferring the warmth of his body against hers to the cold outside. The magic of the forest had turned the area into perpetual autumn. Severus had mused that the forest knew Hermione loved autumn and had molded itself into what she loved best. Hermione had laughed, scoffing at the idea that a forest would craft itself in the image of her personal preferences.

Severus, however, knew better. She had become someone so important to him that both he and the beast wanted nothing more than to wake each day with the warmth of her body nestled against their shared body..

But Severus could not deny that Hermione was aging. She did not look it, her magic keeping her preserved as it did most wizards and witches, but he could not help but see the slight tremble in her hands, the increased time it took for her to remember where she had placed her favourite mug, and the struggle that sometimes came upon her when she couldn't remember that her parents had long since died. To his relief, his presence seemed to gift to her what hers did for him. As long as she was with him, she remembered herself, just as he remembered himself. The irony was not lost in him. What pained him the most was the realisation that she would no longer be able to leave him on trips to the outside world without losing her way unless he accompanied her, but his ability to maintain a human form was sadly too unstable to be reliable.

As he gazed upon her, curled up against him as though it were the most natural thing in the world, snuggling against his bestial body without discomfort or horror, he knew she was the only one that mattered. She was the only one that would ever matter, and one day, that place would be empty. Her spot beside him as they watched the sunset would be unoccupied forever, and he would be alone again. Severus touched her forehead with his half-talons, a soft croon coming from his throat. "Hermione," he whispered.

Hermione's eyes opened slowly, she stared up at him with sleepybrown eyes. "Morning already?" she whispered.

"It's evening," he replied, "Almost sunset."

"Sunset? _Severus!_ " Hermione chided. "What have I told you about letting me sleep in like some old lady by the fire."

Severus smiled somewhat, flashing a hint of inhuman fangs. "Perhaps, I simply wish you to be comfortable."

Hermione touched his cheek and snorted. "I'm always comfortable when I'm with you, my love," she confessed. An odd expression crossed her face. "I think I need to use the loo, however. _That_ is uncomfortable."

Severus extended a hand to her. He walked with her for a time until she turned and stared at him with an amused expression. "It's to the loo, love, not across the forest. I do not need an escort."

Severus looked sheepish, which was an odd look on a half-bestial face. "I'll be here… if you need me."

Hermione shook her head. She placed a hand to his cheek and smiled. "Save the sunset for me, Severus. I'll join you soon."

Severus nodded, his expression transformed to worry as she made her way along the path they had made together. Aging was a part of life. He was no stranger to it, yet, somehow he was now immune to the ravages of time. Hermione, however, was not. He trudged towards the spot where they watched the sunset together every evening. The brightly coloured leaves were rattling on the trees, sending the scent of damp loam and petrichor directly into his nostrils. It was Hermione's favourite scent, and she would often sit on the hill after a good rain and point her nose up, simply scenting the air with a smile on her face. She claimed that he often smelled the same, which was why she enjoyed it.

Severus' nostrils flared and he bolted upright. He smelled blood. It was Hermione's blood. He leapt up, his transformation into the beast was automatic, and he embraced it, knowing it would take him to her faster. He bounded over the rocks and brush and launched into the air, diving between the trees towards the scent.

Skidding to a halt beside Hermione's crumpled form, he saw what had happened. Her ankle was twisted and the sapling she had used to steady herself had bent instead of holding her weight. Her palms were bloody where they had stopped her fall in the rocks. Her head was bleeding where she had hit her head, a trickle of her blood ran down her temple.

"Hermione!" Severus crooned, cradling her in his lap. His tongue lapped her forehead and palms as his instincts told him to offer comfort.

"I'm such a useless muck-up," Hermione complained. "I can't even walk up my own trail." She laid her head against his chest, her hand clutching his fur. "Getting old is for hippogriffs."

Severus let out his breath slowly, pressing his muzzle into her hair and inhaling deeply. His wings enveloped her.

 _Stay with me,_ he wanted to say. _Be my mate._

Instead he said, "Must I light every path for your silly human eyes?"

Hermione smiled up at him. "They aren't getting any sharper, youngin'."

Severus scoffed. "I'm older than you are."

"Technicalities," she answered. "I have more grey hair."

"Psh," Severus replied.

Hermione leaned into Severus' embrace. "I'm sorry, Severus," she whispered into his fur. "I'm just a frail mortal after all. I really wanted to… last longer."

He trembled slightly. "S—stay with me, Hermione. Please."

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it, love?" Hermione smiled at him serenely. Her eyes closed slowly.

Severus hissed. Dark black fluid like the deepest ink oozed down his arm, the taint that had reshaped him creeping slowly towards Hermione's skin, inching ever closer.

"Are you sure, Hermione?" he asked, his hand caressing her face with the pads of his talons. "You may not survive it."

Hermione's brown eyes flickered with warmth. "We've had a good life, Severus. If Fate is kind, it will judge me worthy of you."

Severus felt Hermione's body tense as the blackness of his curse met her wounds. He whined softly.

"Stay with me," Hermione whispered as the convulsions began to take her. "Will you stay with me?"

"Always," he breathed the reply, caressing her hair.

Hermione's body began to shake, pain spreading through her blood as the taint worked through her bloodstream. She screamed in agony, spine arching, hands curving, and foam frothing from her mouth.

Tears trickled down Snape's muzzle as his wings curled around her body, embracing her tightly against himself.

"I'm here," he crooned the mantra over and over. "I'm here."

Hermione's body went still in his embrace as black liquid oozed from her nose, mouth, and eyes.

Severus whined, nosing her with his muzzle as a keening noise escaped his throat. He nudged her with his snout—once, twice, three times in succession. His body shuddered and he clutched her body to his, tilted back his head, and howled.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Severus didn't move until dawn. He clutched Hermione's still body to him through the night, unable and unwilling to let go of her. He cradled her, knowing that soon she would wake and wish to watch the sunrise with him. It was their morning ritual.

Hermione. His Hermione.

He pressed his muzzle to her hair and inhaled her scent. She had been his anchor and beacon in the darkness. She had lived a long life, the end of which she had been content at his side. Surely that should bring him some comfort?

He carried her up the path to the hill where they had watched so many sunrises and sunsets together.

Just one more time, he would watch the sunrise with his Hermionewhile his humanity was still with him—his sliver of sanity.

He sat on the hill, draping Hermioneover his lap as she had always done before.

The sun rose slowly, casting golden beams across the foggy hills and forest canopy.

"It's beautiful, Hermione. The fog is thick like a blanket, just the wayyou like it." His eyes watched the rays dance across the treetops but they were unfocused as he tried not to stare at her still chest.

Suddenly, Hermione took a deep breath; her hands grasping the wing that Severus had wrapped around her to keep her warm.

Severus froze, his eyes flicked down to look towards his lap.

Two pure black eyes stared into his—the eyes of the beast staring back at him.

"Hermione?" he breathed, his heart skipping a beat.

Her now padded and clawed hand wrapped around his. "Good morning, love," she purred.

Severus pressed his muzzle against hers, his tongue lapping the side of her changed face.

"I love you," he managed to say, his voice caught in a half growl.

Hermione smiled, twisting her new muzzle in a strange parody of a smile, She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his chest.

"I love you too," she whispered.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: Unfortunately I managed to catch the stomach flu over the weekend, and I'm now feeling the horrible effects of it.


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